


Like No One's Watching

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Drinking, Gen, Introspection, M/M, Slow Dancing, quiet moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 21:04:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9344603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: A short (and sweet?) fill for the prompt "Cass and Jesse slow dancing in the church."





	

Balmy nights where the stars were out and the cicadas sounded louder than your thoughts. They could lead to all sorts of things. Love. Loss. Confessions. Even juvenile stuff that would be embarrassing as hell come dawn. Now though? With nothing but shadows and a bottle between them?

 

There was little to think on but fun.

 

Jesse leaned his head back on the pew, lolling it slightly from side to side. His tipsy grin was starting to put an ache in the apple of his cheeks.

 

“Never have I ever,” he began, before running out of words. Jesse took a long, unnecessary pull from their bottle; hummed around the lip. When he pulled back there was a ‘pop!’ that sounded obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet church, though it did give him an idea.

 

Jesse grinned with abandon, as only the drunk can. “Never have I ever _given head_ ,” he murmured, looking down through his lashes.

 

“Aw, you’re just cheatin’ now, c’mon.” Still, Cass flung himself forward to accept the bottle, making more of a show of it than needed. Vampirism came with all sorts of unexpected goodies, including a very near perfect tolerance for alcohol...but Jesse didn’t need to know that. Would take the fun out of the night if he did. And with this town’s strangeness encroaching in on them both, moments of fun seemed few and far between.

 

Jesse was watching Cass down enough liquor to stun a horse, his awe forcing its way through the haze. “You’ve done it that many times?” he whispered.

 

“Enough times, sure.” Cass finally paused for air and shot him a toothy grin. “Why? Not hurtin’ your preacher sensibilities, am I? ... or are you jealous?”

 

“Pff,” Jesse waved him off. “No. And _no_. You’re not _that_ pretty.”

 

Which implied, of course, that Cass was pretty in some capacity to begin with. It made him smile, even if he hid it behind a lazy hand. Drunk Jesse was free of all his little town’s expectations—talkative and honest in a way not possible without that liquid courage. Cass loved it. He wanted to take _advantage_ of it.

 

But hell, if Jesse Custer was worth anything, we was worth a drop of restraint.

 

...for now.

 

“I’m pretty enough for the two of us,” he retorted, chuckling at Jesse’s expression as he tried to decipher if that was an insult or not. “Now, now, don’t go breakin’ that head of yours. It’s my turn anyhow. Hmm... not a whole lot I can say though, Padre. I’ve done it all.”

 

“You’ve never done me,” Jesse said, laughing at his own, artless flirting. He didn’t mean it of course. Not fully. Not _yet_ , though it certainly tightened Cass’ jeans all the same. He crossed his legs and leaned forward, brandishing the bottle.

 

“No I haven’t, and ain’t that a sin?”

 

Cass needed something from this boy tonight. Not everything, but enough to tide a poor, thirsty man over.

 

“Never have I ever… slow danced in a church,” he said, keeping his voice pitched low.

 

“Wha?” Jesse blinked. “Haven’t what now?”

 

Cassspread his arms, warming to the subject. A bit of their drink splashed to the floor. _Blasphemy_.

 

“Danced, Padre. You know, two people getting cozy in one another’s arms, swayin’ to a beat only the two of them can hear...” he’d lost Jesse somewhere in that romantic poetry. The boy was staring at their bottle with a befuddled expression and, by god, Cass could do nothing but grin. His pretty preacher was _wasted_.

 

“I haven’t either,” Jesse admitted, sounding sad about it. Cass’ heart skipped a few beats before he finished with: “Does that mean we can’t drink any more?”

 

The laugh that busted out of Cass was both loud and joyous. Why, what a perfect opening.

 

“Tell you what, Padre, how about you and I dance a bit and then we can both drink, yeah?”

 

“... _Yeah_.”

 

It was a breathy, excited answer that sent Jesse stumbling to his feet. Pure vampire reflexes kept the fool from face planting on the wooden floor, Cass up and out of his seat before you could give a damn ‘hail Mary,’ his arms tight as iron around Jesse’s waist. And what a waist it was. Trim and toned, but Cass could easily imagine Jesse’s muscles giving way to a soft beer belly someday, when his physical fights were long behind him. Suddenly, like the burn of the sun itself, Cass wanted to be there when it happened.

 

He swallowed hard, chin jutting up over Jesse’s shoulder. “I’ve got you, Padre.”

 

The preacher was deadweight in Cass’ arms. Not that it mattered much with his strength. Jesse smelled of alcohol, obviously, and the sweat from a hot night too... but also sawdust. Hadn’t he been helping out Lars and his brood earlier, out in the barn? Goddamn do-gooder.

 

Cass was so engulfed in the feel of him—the slide of bold hands across his back, Jesse sneaking one leg between his—that for a long moment he failed to notice the most prominent movement of all: a sluggish back-and-forth that Jesse accomplished mostly through gravity.

 

“This is what you call dancing?” Cass asked, chuckling.

 

“Mmm-hmm,” was the only reply. It sounded like Jesse was already half asleep, boneless and trusting against him.

 

Honestly, Cass wasn’t sure what the hell you were supposed to do with trust like that... so he just pulled Jesse closer.

 

And raised their hands, intertwining fingers and sliding his palm up around Jesse’s shoulders. Not exactly a formal closed position, but it would do for them. Sloppy and half-assed was sort of their style.

 

“I do actually know how to dance, Padre,” Cass murmured, directly into his ear. “Wasn’t for the likes of us rats back in the day, but live long and travel far? You pick up a thing or two along the way, I’ll tell ya that. Pretty little waltzes that were just for show, hot salsas in the back alley clubs, boleros that would spin your holy head sideways...”

 

Jesse wasn’t listening. He’d probably really be asleep if Cass wasn’t keeping them upright and moving, though as it was his breaths were still too deep for the seriously engaged. Cass didn’t mind. He wasn’t sure he wanted to share all of this just yet. Not when Jesse would remember it anyhow.

 

He shuffled them back toward the pew. Their bottle, nearly empty, met with a wayward foot. It toppled, rolled, and the last bit trickled out onto the floor.

 

“Whoops. Looks like we both lost that round...”

 

It didn’t feel like a loss though. Hell no. Not when Jesse was puffing in the curve of Cass’ neck and leaving him a memory he’d carry with him forever.

 

And forever was a damn long time for a vampire.

 

Cass smiled, giving them both a little twirl, recounting tales that would soon be lost to the night. They danced until dawn and when wispy bits of sunlight filtered through the church windows, Cass danced around those too; a dangerous, foolish little act.

 

Worth it though, just to get one more moment together.


End file.
